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Sunday, February 15, 1998 By Brian O'Neill
OK, men, how'd you do yesterday?
If you're asking, "What da ya mean?" you've already blown it. You forgot Valentine's Day; you're toast. Short of suggesting the purchase of a car or an inflatable Brad Pitt doll for your one-and-only's next birthday, I can't help you.
But perhaps I can help those gents who sprang for their usual Feb. 14 trifecta - card, roses, dinner - and still were made to feel like the Unabomber.
The problem is that expectations have risen since last year. Don't feel stupid that you didn't get the memo on that. Many women are not even aware of it. Raised romantic expectations are nonetheless part of the emotional fallout of the Monica Lewinsky internship.
Forget for a moment the Clairol ad aspect of this Washington soap opera, the did-she-or-didn't-she? Let's look only at what we know. Maybe. Sort of.
Lewinsky has made the fastest start of any three-syllable scandal character in recent memory. The name "Lewinsky" went from zero newspaper mentions, year after year, to more than 200 in just the past three weeks. This, of course, shatters the pace set in 1994 by Jeff "Gillooly," Tonya Harding's heartthrob and Nancy Kerrigan's knee-throb.
So there's no need to go over all the details. Let me only remind you that President Clinton is supposed to have given Lewinsky gifts. Inexpensive tokens, says her attorney. "A dress, a brooch and a hat pin," say unidentified sources.
Almost everyone believes the unidentified sources because, hey, when was the last time a nebulous blob steered us wrong?
So that's the new minimum standard: a dress, a brooch and a hat pin; 200 bucks, easy. A year ago, a guy coming across with loot like that would be up for St. Valentine's Lifetime Achievement Award. Now, he's only matching what a boss gives an intern.
Whether any or all of this White House soap opera turns out to be true is immaterial. The romance bar has been raised to a level most men can't clear. Our traditional February strategy, a bouquet of flowers and a cloud of dust, no longer scores. Women want more.
I was lamenting this to a gay friend the other day, and was told I was missing the real point.
"The problem can be summed up in two words," he said. "Straight men.
"Weddings work. Why? Because when women want a romantic fantasy, they plan it themselves. The smarter a woman is, the less she wants the man to have anything to do with the wedding."
I thought of my own wedding, and meeting my wife's second cousin from Ohio on the receiving line while my own first cousin from Reading never made the cut. Not that I'm bitter.
"Women go to their mother and girlfriends to plan the wedding," my friend continued. "They go to gay people who like to do the flowers or design the party, and it turns out exactly as they want it to be.
"Unfortunately, for Valentine's Day, they have to depend on the men, and inevitably you guys louse it up. If you want Valentine's Day to be successful, give it back to the girls."
I wanted to argue, wanted to point out that there were plenty of straight florists out there, too, but I knew his theme was essentially inarguable.
This ain't our holiday, boys. That's why God created the Fourth of July, a day when men can relax, start a small fire and blow up things with the children.
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